


Waiting for Tuesday

by klondsbie, nineofcupsnpc



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 23:06:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17837744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klondsbie/pseuds/klondsbie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nineofcupsnpc/pseuds/nineofcupsnpc
Summary: Lin Yanjun is very good at ignoring the way his heart screams in his chest every time his best friend You Zhangjing breathes around him. It just so happens that Zhangjing sends Yanjun a drunk text confessing his love just weeks after Yanjun realizes his feelings for him.Which was amazing, right up until he realized that the text was meant for Wang Ziyi.✧ ✧ ✧Prompt:#86: "Lin yanjun receives a drunken text from his college best friend who he realized he loves more than as a friend just mere weeks ago.Zhangjing: hI h0ws uour nighht ypou shsouldve come wyh me to yhe partiyYanjun smiles at the text and is about to reply a ""hi to you too zhangjing"" when he gets a new message from the boy of his dreams.""I l0va3 uou sop much iy huerts""Yanjun's about to scream from joy, when the next text from zhangjing appears and shatters his heart.""Wamg zoyi i lovw yoo u"""





	1. Beginning

Yanjun didn’t believe Xukun when he told him during dinner that Yanjun was one hundred percent in love with You Zhangjing.

Xukun was joking ( _“You know, you spend so much time talking You Zhangjing that you should probably just skip asking him out and go straight to proposing”_ ), and Yanjun laughed it off. But then Yanjun kept thinking about it as they left the cafeteria.

_Zhangjing’s my best friend. Of course I spend so much time talking about him_ , Yanjun told himself as he and Xukun split ways, as they lived in different dormitories.

_I mean I know Zhangjing is cute. But that’s about it_ , Yanjun reassured himself as he jabbed the button his dormitory building’s elevator.

Yanjun lived on the fourth floor. By the time the elevator passed floor three, Yanjun was entertaining the possibility that he was completely, totally in love with his best friend You Zhangjing.

Not in love, but maybe just a little, tiny crush, he reasoned with himself as he walked down his dorm hall in a sort of trance.

Because apparently, all he did was talk about You Zhangjing.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks go by. Yanjun’s suspicions are confirmed.

Judging by the fact that Yanjun suddenly was just noticing how his heart would immediately leap into his throat every time Zhangjing smiled in his direction, yes, Yanjun was a little bit super in love with his best friend.

Which isn’t always the best thing to feel towards a platonic best friend, Yanjun knows.

_But_ _maybe You Zhangjing shouldn’t be so fucking adorable_ , Yanjun thinks to himself.

Zhangjing was so fucking adorable, in fact, Yanjun often forgot that Zhangjing was the junior in college and Yanjun was the sophomore. For example, the shorter boy’s wardrobe consisted strictly of oversized sweaters and hoodies that completely draped his smaller frame, kind of like how Yanjun really wanted to drape his arms around Zhangjing and keep him there against his chest forever.

His thoughts ran away extremely easily whenever he was thinking about Zhangjing.

Zhangjing’s smile was absolutely hypnotic, Yanjun realized. They were in the same chemistry class for the first semester, and obviously it was the class Yanjun looked forward to the most. He looked forward to Zhangjing’s smile whenever Yanjun walked into class a minute and a half late every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

Yanjun was an English major and hated chemistry with every bone of his being. But it was where he first met Zhangjing, so it was his favorite class.

Second semester, no classes together. _That’s fine_ , Yanjun had said to himself in his advisor’s office on the first day of second semester, dropping his German 201 class and switching into Zhangjing’s Religion class. He could take his required language credits next year.

Two months and three weeks into second semester marks the moment Yanjun realized he was in love with You Zhangjing. Two weeks had gone by since then, and Yanjun is just figuring out that the reason why his feelings for Zhangjing aren’t going away is because they’ve already been there for too long.

 

* * *

 

Yanjun _hates_ his intro to linguistics class.

It was a Thursday. During lunch, (they always eat lunch together on Thursdays, Zhangjing made sure of it) Yanjun mentioned how stressed he was for his linguistics test the following day.

“Oh,” Zhangjing had said, frowning a tiny bit as he stabbed at his ravioli with his fork, “I was about to ask if you wanted to come to a party with me tonight. Good luck on your test though!”

Zhangjing smiled, and Yanjun instantaneously smiled back against his will. It wasn’t his fault Zhangjing’s happiness automatically translated into Yanjun’s own happiness.

Thirteen hours later, it’s two in the morning and Yanjun is still cramming for his stupid test. He would have been done studying by now, but there was a tiny, little, barely noticeable part of Yanjun that was wondering just how many boys Zhangjing had talked to tonight. And it was very distracting.

His phone buzzed, and when Yanjun saw the contact name he immediately picked his phone up.

> Text from Zhangjing | 02:18
> 
> hI h0ws uour nighht ypou shsouldve come wyh me to yhe partiy

Yanjun smiles, of course. Most people would probably be kind of annoyed to get a drunk text, but coming from Zhangjing, Yanjun found the text kind of cute. That same little part of Yanjun was pleased with himself that Zhangjing chose to drunk text Yanjun over anyone else.

Yanjun types out _Hi to you too Zhangjing_ but stops before he hits the send button. Zhangjing was drunk. Who knows where he was and who he was with? Yanjun would absolutely go looking for him to make sure Zhangjing made it back to his apartment safely if necessary. He had done it before.

He’s just about to add a question of _Where are you_ before he receives another text.

> Text from Zhangjing | 02:19
> 
> I l0va3 uou sop much iy huerts

Yanjun’s hands freeze.

He’s tempted to throw his phone across the room in pure, uncontainable happiness, he’s tempted to get up and just run, because he feels like he can run a two minute mile right about now, he feels like he can do a couple laps around the whole country of Belgium right now, and he’s ready to scream in pure joy before that same part of him from before reminds himself that being happy that Zhangjing told Yanjun something that he wasn’t ready to say was wrong, and that Yanjun should really be putting Zhangjing’s wellbeing over his own and make sure Zhangjing was home and safe before he starts celebrating, and then Yanjun’s phone buzzes again in his shaking hands.

> Text from Zhangjing | 02:19
> 
> Wamg zoyi i lovw yoo u

Just as quickly, Yanjun shatters.

Yanjun _shatters._

Everything in his mind goes silent for a little.


	2. Shattering

Yanjun didn’t see Zhangjing the next day. 

It was the most painful day of his life.

But for some fucking reason all he wanted was to see the source of it all, Zhangjing.

He doesn’t remember how his linguistic test goes. His answers were a regurgitation of words onto lined paper. 

His day goes by in fragments.

He felt like he was too young to be hurting this fucking much. 

 

* * *

 

For some reason, Yanjun can’t stop looking at the texts. 

> Text from Zhangjing | 02:19
> 
> Wamg zoyi i lovw yoo u

It’s all he can think about. All day yesterday and so far today, Yanjun just kept finding himself going back into his phone and reading that damn text. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because he was hoping that eventually, the words would change, that they’d morph to say something completely different, or that they would just go away completely.

And also, he still hadn’t gotten a text back from Zhangjing. It had taken him a while that night to text back, but he was able to do it at some point. 

> Text to Zhangjing | 02:27
> 
> Where are you? Are you ok? You’re drunk aren’t you?

It was funny how it took Yanjun literally  _ all _ of his willpower to ask him that as if he himself were fine. Maybe his shoulders had been shaking, and maybe there had been slow, silent tears streaming down his cheeks but that was fine. Zhangjing might have been in a dangerous situation so it was fine.

But Zhangjing never responded. Yanjun had no idea how the fuck Zhangjing managed to disappear in those eight minutes, but he never responded. 

A day and a half has passed, and Zhangjing still had yet to respond. And it was killing Yanjun with every minute. 

 

* * *

 

Yanjun sent Zhangjing another text later that night. 

He hadn’t ever gone this long before without talking to him. Maybe Zhangjing had saw what he sent after he had sobered up, and was beyond embarrassed that his secret was out. Yeah, that was probably why. It didn’t hurt any less, though.

When Zhangjing left Yanjun on read, Yanjun realized for the first time that loving really fucking  _ hurts _ . When words couldn’t process how much he was hurting, his body decided to make him hurt physically instead. The aching in his chest made him sore after a certain point, and that was when he just texted Zhangjing again because his heart just couldn’t take it anymore.

He waited. He waited, and he thought about Ziyi. He had given a lot of thought to the kid by now. 

Wang Ziyi.

Yanjun knew Wang Ziyi.

Wang Ziyi was in Yanjun’s year.

Of course, Yanjun knew Wang Ziyi. Not because he was insanely popular, but now that Yanjun thought about it, Zhangjing brought him up quite a lot. Yanjun never really thought about it too much, and Yanjun had a general distaste for most boys that Zhangjing talked about, so Wang Ziyi never really stuck out out to him in particular. They were in the same club, Asian Student Organization, but it was a big club and they never really spoke. He knew Xukun was really close with Wang Ziyi, but that was about all he knew of him specifically.

But apparently, Zhangjing was in love with him. Zhangjing never even mentioned it to Yanjun, and that kind of hurt just as much as the fact that Zhangjing was in love with someone else.

_ Bzzt. _

Yanjun scrambled for his phone. 

> Text to Zhangjing | 19:08
> 
> Hey Zhangjing are you feeling okay? Haven’t heard back from you. 
> 
> Text from Zhangjing | 19:11
> 
> hey
> 
> sorry i didn’t text u back. 
> 
> wanna meet in the dining hall?

Yanjun had grabbed his coat and was out the door within seconds.

What was normally a seven-minute walk to the dining hall was cut down to three and a half minutes. Yanjun tried to walk into the dining hall really casually, as if his chest wasn’t heaving from running across campus. 

Zhangjing was sat at a booth tucked away in the back. With his hood on, his bangs were pressed against his forehead, and there were bags underneath his eyes, but he still smiled widely when he saw Yanjun walking towards him. 

Yanjun’s stomach lurched.  _ Fuck he’s so adorable. _

“I am so so sorry,” Zhangjing said as soon as Yanjun sat down across from him, “I was hungover all day yesterday, I really had  _ way _ too much to drink.”

“Yeah, I could tell. You really scared the hell out of me by not responding, by the way,” Yanjun said. Zhangjing grinned sheepishly. 

“Yeah, sorry… I promise I would have texted you back sooner. It’s just that… Honestly, Yanjun?”

Zhangjing played with his fingers, the sleeves of his hoodie almost completely swallowing his hands. “I was embarrassed.”

The older glanced up into Yanjun’s eyes, biting down on his lip and smiling nervously. “Because of what I texted you. I uh… wasn’t planning on telling you I’m in love with Wang Ziyi.”

_ Fuck. _

_ Fuck, that hurt. _

Yanjun felt like he was just stabbed in the chest. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting coming down here, he wasn’t sure why he was so shocked to hear those words come out of Zhangjing’s mouth. It had been the only thing Yanjun could really think about for the past day and a half, yet hearing Zhangjing say it himself… It hurt.

Yanjun realized he was glaring hard at the table, and quickly looked back up at Zhangjing. His friend frowned a little bit. 

“What? Are you still mad at me for drunk texting you?” Zhangjing asked cautiously. “Because to be honest, I’m actually glad it was you and not Ziyi…”

“No,” Yanjun said immediately. Zhangjing liked to ask Yanjun if he was mad a lot, and that question being asked was the only thing that Zhangjing could do that really annoyed Yanjun. He would never want Zhangjing to think Yanjun was upset with him, or mad at him, or had any negative feelings towards him. 

“Just, uh…” Yanjun stalled, trying to come up with a decent response that didn’t scream  _ I’m in love with you _ , “Uh. Why though?”

Yanjun wanted to immediately take those words back. He didn’t want to hear why, not even a little bit. It was selfish, but he really did not want to hear.

Zhangjing paused for a second, and Yanjun thought maybe that Zhangjing would spare him and keep this heart-shattering information private.

“Why do I love Ziyi?” Zhangjing rephrased. 

_ Shit. _

“It’s weird. It’s  _ so  _ easy for me to love him. But it’s just all these different reasons combined,” Zhangjing said quietly, a certain gleam to his eyes, one that Yanjun had ever really seen before.

Yanjun sat there, trying to numb himself. 

“… Ziyi was there for me, you know?” Zhangjing began softly, looking down at his hands and playing with his fingers again. 

Yanjun didn’t say anything. He knew if he tried to mutter any words, they would come out as a pathetic croak.

The corners of Zhangjing’s mouth turned upwards every so slightly in a small, shy smile, as if the mere idea of Wang Ziyi made him nervous, and Yanjun could feel his insides twist together into a painful knot. 

Zhangjing continued. “Just in general. He could always tell when I was upset. He never had to ask.”

Yanjun remembered asking Zhangjing every day for a solid week if he was okay. Zhangjing just wasn’t laughing as much as he normally did that week. A soft shake of his head and a small smile is all the response Yanjun would get. Yanjun believed him.

“He’s just so kind, too. It’s the dumb stuff I like, you know? Like… he doesn’t hang up on telemarketers. He kneels down to talk to kids. He just takes an extra step to be a good person.”

Yanjun has no problem hanging up on anyone who isn’t Zhangjing. And he’s pretty sure he’s called more than one kid a  _ gremlin _ in front of Zhangjing more than once.

“And his eyes are just… so nice. So kind. He’s just so caring, and it translates perfectly into his eyes.”

_ Yanjun, you could kill someone just by looking at them _ , Zhangjing had told Yanjun once. 

Yanjun sat there and listened while Zhangjing described everything perfect about Wang Ziyi. He sat there and listened while Zhangjing described characteristics that were starkly opposite to Yanjun’s own, and he sat there and listened while Zhangjing just kept listing reasons why Zhangjing could never love Yanjun. 

But he’s smiling. Zhangjing is smiling like Yanjun has never seen. And instantaneously, Yanjun smiles back, and Yanjun keeps sitting there listening to him talk because it’s not his fault that Zhangjing’s happiness automatically translates into Yanjun’s own happiness. 

He just didn’t realize happiness could hurt, too. 

 

* * *

 

“I’m gonna confess,” Zhangjing blurts out the second Yanjun opens the door to his dorm room. Yanjun is so startled by the sudden statement that he almost forgets to be miserable. 

Two weeks had passed since Zhangjing had told Yanjun the truth about his feelings for Ziyi. They hadn’t mentioned it since, but it didn’t make Yanjun’s life any less painful. If anything, he became hyper aware of  _ everything. _

Like the way Zhangjing would smile down at his phone when texting someone—he must be texting Ziyi. Or if Zhangjing just randomly smiled in the middle of conversations—he must be thinking of Ziyi. Or sometimes, Ziyi would wave to Zhangjing as he and Yanjun walked by and Zhangjing wouldn’t be able to stop smiling for five minutes straight.

But with Zhangjing standing in front of him like this, wearing his favorite pink sweater, Yanjun could forget about all of his misery for just a couple seconds. 

“… Really?” was all Yanjun had to offer. “Today? On a Monday?”

Zhangjing feigns hitting him, and Yanjun ducks out of the path of Zhangjing’s wrath. 

“I don’t know. Maybe? Maybe three weeks from today? But I just decided. I can’t keep doing this,” Zhangjing said very quickly, like he just came to his realization mere seconds ago and was rushing to get it all out.

“I can’t keep living like this, pretending that my feelings don’t exist. I know I’m risking a lot… but I can’t keep doing this… It almost hurts, not saying anything. Pretending everything is fine, like my heart isn’t about to leap out of my chest every time he looks at me.”

Zhangjing finally paused, looking at Yanjun. Then he smiled sheepishly. 

“Sorry… I know this is random. It’s really hard to explain everything.”

“No,” Yanjun said, attempting a casual smile. He finally stepped to the side, allowing Zhangjing in. 

“I completely understand.”

 

* * *

 

Zhangjing talked about Ziyi for almost an entire hour. Yanjun, for once in his life, was grateful for his resting angry face. If any of his true feelings registered on his face, Zhangjing certainly didn’t think anything of it. 

They decided. Well, Zhangjing decided by arguing it over with himself, really. Yanjun just sat there and listened. Zhangjing decided that he would confess to Ziyi that Friday night. Ziyi liked getting all his homework done Friday, and went out during the weekend. His roommate, however, always went out on Fridays. So this way, Zhangjing was ensured to be able to catch Ziyi in his dorm and talk to him privately.

So by the end of the week, Zhangjing will have confessed.

Each day that week is pure hell. Each day marked another moment closer to Zhangjing officially never being able to be Yanjun’s.

Friday finally comes. Yanjun only sees Zhangjing that morning before class, eating breakfast together in the dining hall. He’s wearing his new Adidas and his favorite pink sweater again. There’s a look in Zhangjing’s eyes that Yanjun detects before they part ways.

Zhangjing is absolutely terrified. 

For a small second, Yanjun almost hopes that Zhangjing decides to back out, to just come to Yanjun’s room instead and be too scared.

And Yanjun feels like shit for it.


	3. Confessing

At eight o’ five that night, there’s a soft knocking on Yanjun’s door. He scrambles out of his bed to go open it.

There are tears streaming down Zhangjing’s face when Yanjun opens the door. 

“Zhangjing,” Yanjun says after a second of shock. The shorter merely shakes his head, peeking over Yanjun’s shoulder at his dormmate’s bed. 

“Can I come in?” Zhangjing asks when he sees that Yanjun is alone. Yanjun steps aside, and as the door shuts behind Zhangjing, Yanjun wraps his arms around Zhangjing in a tight hug at once. 

It takes a few seconds for Zhangjing to respond, his arms wrapping around Yanjun’s waist, fingers curling into the back of his sweatshirt. Yanjun wonders if Zhangjing can feel his racing heartbeat as he slowly nuzzles his damp face into Yanjun’s neck. 

“… Do you want to sit down? Talk about it?” Yanjun asks after a minute or so. Again, his responses are delayed, as if thinking physically hurts him. Zhangjing nods, pulling away from the hug before Yanjun does. 

Two seconds after they’re both seated on Yanjun’s bed, Zhangjing just spills. Everything comes out at once. And it all started with one terrible, disgusting,  _ beautiful _ sentence. 

“Ziyi rejected me.”

And Yanjun feels like absolute  _ shit _ . He feels like shit and it feels so good. 

Zhangjing  _ had _ managed to build up the courage to go to Ziyi’s dorm and confess to him right to his face to moment he opened the door. And when Ziyi let him in after his outburst, he sat Zhangjing down and explained to him why he didn’t feel the same. It’s not that there’s someone else, Ziyi said, it’s that he just likes being friends.

And Yanjun feels like  _ shit. _ He feels like shit because he’s happy. He’s happy that Ziyi rejected him because Yanjun is selfish and Yanjun wants Zhangjing to himself, but he feels like shit because Zhangjing’s shoulders are shaking with sobs in front of him and Yanjun is feeling happy. 

He feels shitty, and it feels good. He hasn’t felt like this in a while. He forgot what hope felt like. 

Eventually, Zhangjing is reduced to tears again and Yanjun just wraps his arms around Zhangjing. Only this time, Zhangjing doesn’t hesitate, immediately collapsing against the support of the taller and crying into his chest. 

They stay sitting like that until Zhangjing literally falls asleep against his chest. It takes an hour and a half, and Yanjun has to tell Zhangjing over and over again that he should just relax and sleep through it. 

Yanjun falls asleep shortly after. He awakens, drowsy and confused, what feels like mere hours later by a soft shaking. It takes a few seconds for Yanjun to realize the shaking is Zhangjing, his entire little body was shaking against Yanjun. 

“Zhangjing,” Yanjun said suddenly, alarmed. The shaking stopped at once, leaving the younger lifeless against him. 

There is silence for twenty, maybe thirty seconds before Zhangjing speaks. 

“… I’m sorry for waking you up…” he croaks quietly, sitting up slowly. Yanjun does the same, figuring that he must have slouched over in his sleep. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Yanjun says immediately. Zhangjing is quiet for a couple seconds before snorting softly. 

“You always say that,” he murmured, “Every time I mess up around you. You tell me, no, don’t be sorry. I’m sobbing on top of you at three in the morning and you tell me not to be sorry…”

If Zhangjing had a point with this, he didn’t make it. Yanjun just shrugged a little. Honestly, he was just glad that Zhangjing noticed  _ something _ that Yanjun did.

“I mean it,” Yanjun said honestly. 

“No, really,” Zhangjing said, his voice thick. He pushed himself away from Yanjun, out of his arms, and Yanjun had to will them to not wrap around him again. 

“It’s three AM on a Saturday. You’re usually out partying with Xukun… I came to your dorm at eight. I probably ruined your plans,” Zhangjing muttered miserably, looking down.

“No,” Yanjun said, almost annoyed. He didn’t like that Zhangjing was suggesting that Yanjun would rather be partying than here with him. Actually, if that’s the image Zhangjing had of him, then Yanjun kind of hated it. 

Yanjun continued. “No, Zhangjing. I’d much rather be here for you. And even if I had already gone out, and you called me like this, I’d leave and come right back here. Okay? If you need me, I want to be there for you,  _ way _ more than I want to be at some stupid party.”

Zhangjing didn’t say anything. Maybe Yanjun was a little too weird— _ fuck, did that come out weird? _

“And also, Xukun hasn’t been going out partying recently for some reason, so I’ve been staying in. I feel weird around Zhengting and Chengcheng without him,” Yanjun added in an attempt to make his response not scream _ I’m in love with you _ .

Yanjun glanced down at Zhangjing in the darkness, and no, what Yanjun said wasn’t weird. It was just that Zhangjing was smiling, smiling this terribly miserable smile that barely reached his eyes. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Zhangjing said softly, “You wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt me, or do something to mess us up. I can’t believe you put up with me.”

Yanjun had no idea how to respond or feel. He just nods. He feels dumb, but he has a feeling Zhangjing gets it. 

“Hey, lie down. My neck hurts from falling asleep on you sitting up,” Zhangjing says.

Yanjun lies down. He’s not sure how it happens, but Zhangjing ends up snuggling up against Yanjun’s chest, his head resting over Yanjun’s heart. 

Skinship isn’t uncommon for Zhangjing, but he can’t believe Zhangjing falls asleep as fast as he did with Yanjun’s heart racing the way it was.

(Yanjun falls asleep just five minutes after Zhangjing does. He can feel his arm go numb as he slips into sleep, but he was pretty sure it was against the law to move his arm with Zhangjing asleep on it.)

 

* * *

 

Yanjun wakes up alone.

He tries not feel sad or empty, but when the realization settles in that Zhangjing must have left at some point, all he can do is feel sorry for himself.

Until he sits up and sees the note resting on his desk besides his bed. Yanjun reaches for it and reads it.

_ I’m still so sorry for bothering you all night. I’m getting upset again so I’m going to leave before I wake you up again. I’ll text you later. -Zhangjing _

Yanjun just looks at the note for a little bit, glancing at his bedside clock. It wasn’t even nine yet.

And then he gets this crazy idea. Before he can convince himself otherwise, he’s already putting his shoes on and grabbing his coat.

Wang Ziyi lives in the same dorm building that Xukun does, Yanjun knows. And he’s going to have a little chat with him. 

 

* * *

 

Yanjun was out of his mind. But here he was, knocking on the door of Wang Ziyi’s dorm at nine in the morning.

At first, no one responded. So Yanjun resorted to jiggling the doorknob, on and off for ten or so seconds until finally someone answered. 

The door cracked open maybe five inches, Ziyi poking his stupidly handsome face through the opening. 

“Oh hey Yanjun. What’s up? Is this about the ASO meeting?”

“Ah, no,” Yanjun said awkwardly, “No, not about ASO. Uh… It’s actually about Zhangjing.”

Yanjun watched Ziyi’s face carefully for a reaction. Ziyi didn’t really react, but his eyes softened a bit. 

“Oh, right… I almost forgot you’re best friends with him, of course he would have… told you…” Ziyi said guiltily, looking down at the floor. 

It was weird. Zhangjing was  _ hurting _ so  _ much _ over this guy, this guy who is too stupid to realize that he has someone like Zhangjing head over heels for him. He caused Zhangjing so much pain to the point that Yanjun felt absolutely useless. But when Ziyi looked down like that, it was like he fully realized this already. And he felt terrible about it. 

Ziyi was a good guy. It was easy to see why Zhangjing loved him. 

“Just… Tell him it’s really not him, okay? He didn’t really seem convinced of anything I told him last night… It’s really not him at all,” Ziyi said, almost pleadingly. 

“Ziyi?” a voice called from inside the room, the voice tired and scratchy from the person just having woken up.

Yanjun froze.

Someone was in his room.

_ It’s not like there’s someone else. _

Ziyi winced, looking at Yanjun before looking down in pure guilt.

“I’m really sorry,” Ziyi said again, “I… I’ll see you later.”

Ziyi went to close the door. And in that second, everything in Yanjun’s mind just collided. His feelings for Zhangjing that had been built up for months, the pure frustration from pretending that he was  _ fine _ for the past three weeks, and the desire to punch this fuckhead right in the fucking jaw for lying  _ straight to Zhangjing’s face _ about the real reason why Ziyi didn’t like Zhangjing that way—it all just collided and combined into one, giant, dick move.

Yanjun shoved his foot forward in the doorway, catching the door before it closed. 

“Sorry? You’re going to say sorry and shut the door on me?” Yanjun spat, and Zhangjing was going to  _ kill _ him for talking to Ziyi like this but he didn’t care. “I didn’t get to say  _ any _ of what I wanted to say, like how Zhangjing has been sobbing uncontrollably on and off all night, or like how he had been building up the courage to do this for weeks. You’re going to tell me  _ sorry _ ? You’re going to tell  _ me _ sorry? How about telling Zhangjing sorry because you’re too much of a fucking coward to admit to him that the reason you don’t like him is because you’re fucking someone else?”

Every word hit Ziyi, causing him to visibly wince, and he could see just how his words pierced through him, and how much hurt there was in his eyes but Yanjun didn’t give a shit. 

He was going to keep going, too, until that person in Ziyi’s room spoke up again. 

“Yanjun? Is that you?”

He froze again, and his mind went a little blank.

_ No. No fucking way. _

“Yanjun, wait—”

Yanjun completely ignored Ziyi and pushed the door open fully. 

There was Xukun, in Ziyi’s bed, shirt off. Dozens of love bites were scattered across his chest, up to his neck, and Yanjun suddenly figures out why Xukun hasn’t been going out the past couple of weeks. 

 

* * *

 

A week goes by and Yanjun still hasn’t told Zhangjing about Xukun. 

Xukun even texted Yanjun three times that week trying to explain himself, which Yanjun felt was unnecessary. Xukun had no way of knowing. Xukun had nothing to do with it.

But Ziyi.

Wang Ziyi looked Zhangjing in the face and lied right to him. Zhangjing was already going to leave that conversation hurt, and Ziyi couldn’t even give Zhangjing the mercy to be hurting over the right thing. 

But after a week, Yanjun can think about Ziyi without clenching his fists in anger and he figures he needs to tell Zhangjing, because he deserves the truth; Zhangjing deserves everything. 

 

* * *

 

Mondays are busy. 

Yanjun has two club meetings on Monday evenings—tennis club from four to five thirty, and Asian Student Organization from eight to nine. Not to mention he has class from nine in the morning to three in the afternoon on Mondays, too. 

Mondays are exhausting, so Yanjun isn’t exactly thrilled when Ziyi holds back after the ASO meeting to have a little chit chat. 

Yanjun is almost always the last one to leave the meeting; his job is to run the library room projector every week. As everyone else is filing out, Yanjun is still logging off the desktop. 

“Hey, Yanjun.”

Yanjun’s hands stopped on the keyboard, looking up slowly and cursing internally. Sure enough, Ziyi was standing in front of him, having indeed found this to be the golden opportunity to talk. 

“This is about Zhangjing,” Yanjun said, just cutting right to it. Ziyi blinked, probably used to exchanging one minute of polite small talk before every conversation he started. 

“… Yes,” Ziyi agreed awkwardly, “Yeah, it is.”

There was silence for an awful, horrible five seconds before Ziyi finally realized that Yanjun was only silent because he was waiting for Ziyi to speak. 

“Uh. Well first off, I would ask how Zhangjing is doing, but that’s probably a stupid question.”

Ziyi watched Yanjun’s face carefully. He was good at that, probably—reading people’s emotions. That’s probably a part of why Zhangjing liked him so much. Zhangjing hated it when Yanjun pried. 

He evidently deemed it appropriate to continue speaking. “And… I just wanted to ask why you came to my room to talk to me, because I’m pretty sure Zhangjing didn’t send you.”

Yanjun decides he has no reason to lie to Ziyi. It’s not like Ziyi would tell anyone.

“Guess,” Yanjun drawls, “Take a  _ wild _ guess why I disliked you before you even opened the door.”

That seemed to make him think for a few seconds. 

“… I mean, I kind of figured that you liked him,” Ziyi said slowly, “I just… wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure you had the capacity to really do that for anyone.”

Yanjun wanted to snap at him, asking  _ what the fuck does that mean? _ But he doesn’t, because he gets it. He completely understands where he’s coming from. He didn’t exactly have the gentlest demeanor. 

“Actually, we talked about that once. Me and Zhangjing, that is—I asked him if he liked you,” Ziyi said cautiously, aware he was walking on thin ice. He once again took Yanjun’s silence as permission to continue. 

“He said that he probably wasn’t good enough for you. It was a joke, of course.”

Yanjun has no  _ earthly _ idea how to respond to that, so he doesn’t. He wasn’t sure how that was supposed to make him feel, except maybe even angrier. 

“Well, if he didn’t tell you… that tells me he probably senses some tension between you guys regarding romantic feelings. Maybe he had noticed how you feel for him, or maybe…”

Yanjun cut him off. “I don’t need to hear your conspiracy theories. Why do you want to speak to me now? You seemed pretty eager to get rid of me when I went to go find you.”

Ziyi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well…”

“You lied to Zhangjing. And you were about to lie to my face, too,” Yanjun said flatly, glaring. 

“Yeah, I know, I’m—”

“Xukun has reached out to me more times than you have even tried to.”

“Don’t bring Xukun into this,” Ziyi said immediately. He was keeping a cool head, but Yanjun could sense that Ziyi was growing frustrated.

“The point is, I haven’t been able to speak to Zhangjing. I texted him, but… no response,” Ziyi continued. 

“What, you couldn’t have gone to him in person? You really are a coward, then,” Yanjun said with only a hint of a sneer, “Are you scared of how he’ll react to you sleeping with Xukun?”

“You didn’t tell him?” Ziyi asked, eyes widening, “Why not?”

“Since when was it my responsibility? It’s not my fault you don’t give a shit about Zhangjing,” Yanjun spat.

Clearly, that accusation did not settle well with Ziyi. His gaze hardened, pursing his lips together.

“You know what I think, Lin Yanjun?” Ziyi said slowly, carefully. “I think a big part of you is happy that I rejected Zhangjing. But you know how messed up that kind of thinking is and you’re projecting your feelings onto me.”

The words were like a punch to the gut. Ziyi’s tone was clean, pleasant, yet simultaneously dangerous. If Yanjun kept pushing him, then he would snap. 

“You can care for someone without loving them like that,” Ziyi continued in that same, forced tone. “I know in hindsight I shouldn’t have lied to Zhangjing, but believe it or not, I lied to him because I thought it would be better for him.”

“Bullshit. You lied to him because it’s easier than being honest,” Yanjun responded immediately, “You have no idea how destroyed he is right now.”

Ziyi didn’t agree, but he didn’t seem to completely disagree with Yanjun either.

“I’ll ask him myself how he feels when I go talk to him,” was all Ziyi had to say in response. Before Yanjun could even open his mouth, Ziyi just kept going. 

“I was going to go apologize and make sure he was okay. Because I do care about him,” Ziyi said, and he sounded like he meant it, he really did. Too bad Yanjun couldn’t give less of a shit. Yanjun did entertain the thought for a second. though.

“…Don’t bother.” Yanjun slung his bag over his shoulder. He had enough, he needed to leave. 

“Am I not allowed to apologize? I thought you wanted what was best for him,” Ziyi asked, and if Yanjun were talking to literally anyone else, he would have thought of those words to be taunting.

“If all you’re going to do is tell him sorry, then don’t,” Yanjun responded lowly. He opened the door, still facing Ziyi. The taller hadn’t moved a foot. 

In situations like these, sorry never means sorry. When it’s stand alone, with no explanation, it isn’t worth shit. It’s cheap, it’s lazy, and Yanjun finds it to be despicable.

“Sorry is for people who don’t know how to apologize,” Yanjun muttered. He wasn’t even sure Ziyi heard him, but that didn’t keep him from turning on his heel, briskly walking out of the room.

 

* * *

 

_ He said that he probably wasn’t good enough for you _ .

For some reason, those are the words that stick out in Yanjun’s mind the most when he leaves that room. 

It bothered him a little during their talk, and now that he was alone it was all he could think about. By the time he reached his dorm building, Yanjun is so completely frustrated and upset that he wants to punch something. 

So he walks right past his dorm building and begins to head to Zhangjing’s place.

It’s absolutely bullshit. Zhangjing was absolute perfection, and  _ Yanjun _ is too good for him? He’s not sure just  _ why _ it makes him so upset, especially since it really should have made Yanjun feel happy. But it doesn’t, not at all. 

His thoughts are so distracting that his feet carry him right to Zhangjing’s apartment door and he doesn’t even realize it until he’s knocking on it. 

“Yanjun,” Zhangjing smiles as he opens the door, that beautiful fucking smile that makes Yanjun’s knees give out, “It’s so late. What’s up?”

“… I…” Yanjun manages, struggling to find words.

He didn’t think this through at all. He’s just standing here in front of Zhangjing with absolutely nothing to say.

_ He said that he probably wasn’t good enough for you _ . 

The words ring through his mind again. And he gets so frustrated, so insanely upset by that fucking ridiculous statement that he just says what comes to his mind first.

_ You Zhangjing. Everything you do makes me melt. And you’re beautiful, but actually. You’re beautiful, because being a kind person comes to easy to you. I didn’t ever know what love was until I saw you radiating with it. You Zhangjing, you are everything new. Until you accept me like this, I have no where to go. Until then, I’ll be lost in you. _

Yeah, he’d probably say something like that if the situation were different. It’s what he’s thinking, but without context the monologue is too much and instead he says something else.

“Z-Ziyi is sleeping with Xukun.”

Zhangjing’s smile is gone so fast that all the color in the world leaves with it.


	4. Regretting

The worst part is that Zhangjing isn’t even angry. 

He’s not angry at Ziyi (of course), he’s not angry at Xukun, and he’s not even mad at Yanjun. Yanjun wishes he was. One, because he thinks he deserves it, and two, Yanjun’s getting frustrated from being the only person angry all the time. 

Zhangjing’s just miserable. 

After that fucking embarrassing outburst, Yanjun had to sit down and explain to Zhangjing everything he talked about with Ziyi, from the morning after the rejection and the meeting. 

Seeing Zhangjing spiraling further and further downward almost made Yanjun sympathize with Ziyi for not telling Zhangjing the truth. Anything is easier than seeing this, absolutely anything. Yanjun couldn’t believe he had thought that not telling Zhangjing his true feelings was the hardest thing he ever had to do. Nothing was worse than this.

The thought is so suddenly jarring that Yanjun literally stops mid-sentence to think about it. 

Seeing Zhangjing hurt was far,  _ far _ worse than concealing his true feelings. Which meant he genuinely, truly, put Zhangjing’s happiness first.

“Yanjun?” Zhangjing asks weakly. Yanjun snaps back into attention.

“Sorry, I’m sorting my thoughts, got distracted. Anyways… Uh, I swear I didn’t mean to be so mean when I said this, but then I told him that…”

His selflessness actually caught him off guard. Which could only mean that Zhangjing was rubbing off on him. 

 

* * *

 

> Text from Zhangjing | 22:21
> 
> can u come over pls
> 
> im emo
> 
> wanna talk about my emo feelings again
> 
>  
> 
> Text to Zhangjing | 22:22
> 
> On my way
> 
>  
> 
> Text from Zhangjing | 22:24
> 
> r u near the dining hall by any chance
> 
>  
> 
> Text to Zhangjing | 22:24
> 
> I was just there
> 
> I already smuggled two pudding cups for you 
> 
> I figured you would need them at some point
> 
>  
> 
> Text from Zhangjing | 22:25
> 
> :’)
> 
> ily

 

* * *

 

“It’s open,” Yanjun hears Zhangjing call out softly from the other side of his apartment door as he knocks.

Yanjun walks in, kicking off his shoes, Zhangjing sitting in the lounge. It’s time like these where Yanjun doesn’t have to worry about bothering a roommate when Yanjun’s really jealous of juniors and seniors being able to live in apartments.

Zhangjing is sat on the couch, knees tucked up to his chest. Yanjun first goes to the kitchen, preparing Zhangjing’s pudding by emptying the cups into his favorite yellow mug and mixing in a Ziploc bag full of sprinkles he stole from the ice cream station. When he sits down, Zhangjing is still in the same exact position.

“You’re too good to me,” Zhangjing smiles weakly, taking the mug with both hands and spooning a bite into his mouth. 

“I gave you pudding.”

“You’re too good to me,” Zhangjing repeated, wiping a bit of pudding from the corner of his mouth. 

Yanjun is so in love with him that it hurts. 

“So… What did you need to talk about?” Yanjun asks. Zhangjing sighs a little bit. 

“Honestly? I don’t even know. I just feel so down today, and I really wanted some company,” Zhangjing said softly, cutely. “I’m not even sure I want to talk about Ziyi.”

_ he just wants my company _ “Well I’m glad I came all the way here for a good, solid reason,” Yanjun teased, pretending not to be extremely pleased with the fact that Zhangjing just wanted him here.

“Oh shut up,” Zhangjing grinned, “You know, you’re the only person who can make fun of me when I’m like this. If anyone else tried this I’d step on their foot.”

“Even Ziyi?”

_ fUCK why did I say that? _

The words come out of Yanjun’s mouth before he could even really control it. Zhangjing visibly winces, and Yanjun wants to punch himself in the face. 

“I’m sorry. I’m stupid, I’m really dumb,” Yanjun said quickly, “I don’t know why I said that.”

“It’s okay, Yanjun,” Zhangjing said, but he didn’t look like he meant it entirely. “But yes, even Ziyi. Mostly because I don’t think he’s as much as a jerk as you are.”

It was Yanjun’s turn to sneer at the other, Zhangjing’s grin back on his face. Yanjun again veiled his true feelings, pretending that that comment didn’t hurt.

“Well in my opinion, if Wang Ziyi left you so hurt then he can’t be all that great,” Yanjun said, attempting to sound fair. Zhangjing pursed his lips cutely in response. 

“I appreciate your support, yet politely disagree,” Zhangjing responded.

“Zhangjing, he lied to you about something he  _ knew _ would hurt you more if he found out later.”

“Yeah, but you said he did it to protect me.”

“That’s what he’s telling himself.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s that big of a deal,” Zhangjing reasoned, and Yanjun scoffed. 

“Isn’t there a saying, ‘Red flags just look like normal flags through rose-tinted glasses’?” Yanjun responded. 

Zhangjing just smiled weakly, shrugging. “Yeah, maybe. But not everyone’s perfect.”

“Yeah. Too bad Wang Ziyi isn’t as perfect as me,” Yanjun sighed, brushing back his hair jokingly. Zhangjing reached forward to push him playfully.

“Exactly, Yanjun. You’re far too perfect for anyone to date, and poor people like me have to settle,” Zhangjing chided. 

Yanjun could feel the smile on his lips fade every so slightly. “…What do you mean?” he asked carefully. 

“You’re kidding, right?” Zhangjing said, lips pressed into a joking smile, “Have you looked into a mirror, Lin Yanjun? Me and the rest of the world just can’t compete.”

_ ‘He said that he probably wasn’t good enough for you.’ _

Ringing goes off in Yanjun’s ears from the wires in Yanjun’s brain short circuiting. Yes, Yanjun’s resting angry face often shrouded his true feelings, but Zhangjing was good at telling when Yanjun reall _ y was _ upset. 

“Yanjun. I wasn’t calling you shallow, or something, that came out wrong, I’m sorry—”

“Stop being sorry You Zhangjing,” Yanjun snapped.

He cut Zhangjing off. He really just interrupted Zhangjing, which he had never done before, but now that his mouth was open, words just wouldn’t stop. 

“Stop being sorry. I  _ despise _ the idea that you think that I could ever be upset at you. I mean it when I tell you to stop being sorry, You Zhangjing. I know I’m not as nice as Wang Ziyi but I have more things in common with him than you ever cared to realize.”

“Why are you comparing yourself to Ziyi--?” Zhangjing asked slowly, and Yanjun just went and cut him off again like the asshole he was.

“Because I compare myself to Ziyi all the time, alright?” Yanjun snapped before he could even really stop himself. 

There was no way that came out sounding normal.

Silence. Silence followed. What had been playful banter just minutes ago had turned into this. Zhangjing finally spoke after what seemed like ages.

“… Yanjun, do you have something to tell me?” Zhangjing asked softly.

Yanjun’s heart began racing, quickly diverting his gaze downwards.

“What do you mean?” Yanjun asked, the words tumbling out of his mouth.

“Is there something that you haven’t been telling me?” Zhangjing rephrased, even though Yanjun knew  _ damn _ well Zhangjing knew exactly what Yanjun was talking about.

He probably should have said something, like  _ I really don’t know what you’re talking about _ or maybe even  _ Can you be more specific _ but Yanjun doesn’t say either of these. He doesn’t even say anything at all, allowing tension and silence to fill the room, suffocating them. 

“… I’m sorry, Yanjun…”

Zhangjing stared at his pudding cup after speaking up after almost a minute of nothing.

The apology was possibly the worst thing he could have heard. Because of what it could potentially mean. But Yanjun didn’t want to think about that. 

Yanjun left within the next ten minutes, and few more words were exchanged. Yanjun doesn’t even really know what the words are. All he really is aware of is the feeling in his heart, that absolutely shattered feeling that had been there for quite some time, now. 

He didn’t know it was possible for that feeling to cut deeper.

 

* * *

 

_ Because I compare myself to Ziyi all the time, alright? _

Yanjun didn’t realize it then, but the moment he left Zhangjing’s apartment that night, it was clear that as soon as those words were spoken, he had created a very clear and distinct drift between them. All of the comfort and casualness that came with friendship was gone. Yanjun had replaced it with unsure feelings and unease. 

He was certain that those words had created this drift, because even though Yanjun never said outright that he was in love with Zhangjing, Zhangjing still apologized at the end of the night. 

Yanjun was terrified of what that apology meant. Why was he sorry? Sorry because he didn’t know what else to say, or sorry because he knew how Yanjun felt, and… felt differently?

And, Zhangjing hadn’t texted him back in two days. So yeah, Yanjun had really fucked up that night.

Well, he did text Yanjun. But he might as well have not had.

Text from Zhangjing | 10:56

hey yanjun. i need a few days to think things out.

i’ll see u in class

Zhangjing made it sound like he needed a few days just to think about his life in general, or think about Ziyi. But it was blatantly obvious that he needed space after what Yanjun did. 

Yanjun wasn’t sure if he regretted it or not.


	5. Changing

A week passed, and Yanjun hated it.

Everything was different now.

The once casual atmosphere had completely fogged over. Zhangjing always dragged along one of his friends to eat with Yanjun now, so that they wouldn’t have to be alone. All while never mentioning that night and trying his best to pretend it didn’t happen at all.

Yanjun knew that Zhangjing wished that it just had never happened at all. Which obviously hurt.

On Sunday night, Yanjun just couldn’t stop thinking about everything. He couldn’t just keep pretending everything was normal, even if it was what Zhangjing wanted.

So he decided to be selfish and he went to go visit Zhangjing unannounced. When he arrived, he took a deep breath before knocking on Zhangjing’s door quietly.

“Yanjun,” Zhangjing said quietly as he opened his apartment door. He looked like he was trying to think of what to say, so Yanjun decided to get right into it.

“Ziyi said that you once told him that you thought I was too good for you. What does that mean?” Yanjun asked. There really, really wasn’t any going back now.

Zhangjing sighed, perhaps consciously aware of this, chewing on his bottom lip before answering. “… This is basically the same thing that you got upset over the other night.”

“You aren’t answering the question.”

Zhangjing sighed again. He turned around, going to sit down on the couch and Yanjun took that as permission to enter.

He shut the door behind him before joining him on the couch, where they were talking a week ago.

Everything was happening so fast. Entire moods and feelings are shifting, changing forever, all because of Yanjun’s one confession.

Everything was different now.

“Okay. I’ll stop pretending everything is normal,” Zhangjing said, looking down at his hands, “I’ll just start talking. Lin Yanjun. You are my best friend, and even though I’ve only known you since last semester, I am closer to you than I have ever been to anyone. And a week ago, you basically confessed to me.”

There was silence, obviously. Yanjun just nodded.

“… Yeah. I wasn’t sure if it was really a confession, but…”

“What you said couldn’t have meant anything else,” Zhangjing said quietly.

Yanjun was staring down at the frayed bits of the cuffs of his jean jacket, sighing a bit himself.

“I wasn’t planning on confessing,” Yanjun said honestly, “It just… happened. The past few weeks had been kind of… frustrating, and I guess hearing you tell me that you weren’t good enough for me just really set me off.”

“Wait,” Zhangjing said suddenly, “Before you explain… that. Can you just start over, like, from the beginning? Explain when… how… you know…”

Yanjun just nodded, and he did. He started from that one meal he had with Xukun, all the way to his conversation with Ziyi.

When he finished, Zhangjing was still looking down at his fingers, picking at his nails. He only let a few seconds pass before responding.

“You know, I think I was shocked that you told me so suddenly. Not that you told me at all… I think I saw signs, I just always denied them.”

“Don’t tell me it’s because of that bullshit,” Yanjun said, finding himself getting irritated again, “Because you think that you’re ‘not good enough.’”

“Of course that’s the exact reasoning I used,” Zhangjing said right back, probably not liking Yanjun’s tone, “That’s what I thought to myself every time. ‘No way someone as attractive as Lin Yanjun could have a crush on someone like me.’ And it worked every time.”

“Is that what you think of me?” Yanjun asked, sitting up at looking right at Zhangjing. He met his gaze, and then looked away, glaring just a tiny bit himself.

“Am I that much of an asshole to you? After all this time you think that I would, one, consider myself to be more attractive than you, and two, not like you because of it?” Yanjun asked incredulously.

“Lin Yanjun.” Zhangjing’s tone was so heavy that it caught Yanjun off guard.

“I have seen you turn down beautiful girl, after beautiful girl, after beautiful boy, after beautiful boy. I have seen you turn down minor Instagram celebrities at bars and I have seen you turn down an _actual millionaire_ ,” Zhangjing said painfully, “… What am I supposed to think, Yanjun? What was I supposed to think?”

“… You were paying attention to all of that?”

Yanjun probably could have responded to that better. Like, reassure Zhangjing, tell him that all of that is stupid because the only reason Yanjun turned down all of those people was _because_ looks didn’t mean shit to him, not that their looks weren’t good enough.

Of course, the only thing Yanjun noticed about that spiel was how Zhangjing _remembered_ all of that.

“… I’m your best friend, of course I pay attention to the fact that you basically don’t hook up with anyone ever. I just made the assumption that none of them were good enough for you,” Zhangjing said.

“It’s because none of them were you!” Yanjun said back exasperatedly.

“How was I supposed to assume that?” Zhangjing asked, snapping a bit.

Yanjun wanted to _scream_ . “If you can assume things like me rejecting people because I think I’m better than them then why can’t you assume that it might be because I fucking like _you_?”

“Because one assumption is more _reasonable_ than the other!” Zhangjing responded, pain clear in his voice, “God, Yanjun, do you even know me? Do you even have _any_ idea how much I hate looking in the mirror?”

“That’s stupid. That’s stupid, You Zhangjing, do _you_ have any idea how stupid I think that is? Do _you_ have any idea how crazy I get over the dumb shit you do?” Yanjun snapped right back.

Zhangjing wasn’t saying anything, and Yanjun decided, _fuck it, I’ll ask and say whatever I want, I might as fucking well at this point._

“Did you ever have feelings for me? Ever?” Yanjun asked.

“That’s irrelevant,” Zhangjing muttered, and Yanjun’s thoughts started going crazy like _what the fuck is that supposed to mean--?_

“It’s not irrelevant, Zhangjing, did you ever have-?”

“I said it’s irrelevant!” Zhangjing yelled, finally cutting Yanjun off.

Yanjun had never heard Zhangjing raise his voice like that, ever.

“I can’t do this, Yanjun,” he said quietly, turning his face away. Maybe Yanjun was imagining things, but he was pretty sure that was color spreading across his cheeks. “Can… Can you just go?”

“But—”

“Yanjun _please_ ,” Zhangjing pleaded softly.

And of course, Yanjun wasn’t going to say no to him when he was like that. So he left.

He wasn’t even outside Zhangjing’s apartment building when his phone buzzed with a text from Zhangjing.

> Text from Zhangjing | 21:38
> 
> we can talk about it later.

 

* * *

 

Later ended up being four days long.

Later was hell.

Zhangjing didn’t pretend everything was fine like he did last time. Instead, he actively avoided Yanjun. He wasn’t sure which one was worse.

In these four days, Yanjun ran into Ziyi and Xukun more often than he ran into Zhangjing. In fact, Xukun practically forced Yanjun to eat lunch with him on day three.

“I keep telling you, Xukun, you don’t have to explain yourself or say sorry because you did absolutely nothing wrong,” Yanjun said when Xukun returned to their table with a plate of food. His lips curled downwards a little bit as he sat down across from Yanjun, popping a carrot stick into his mouth.

“Well, I know,” Xukun said after he finished chewing, “I actually wanted to make a case for Ziyi, because I know you aren’t a huge fan of him. But I also just wanted to eat lunch with you because we’re friends and we haven’t eaten together just the two of us in forever, so can we just be people for twenty minutes and talk to each other about normal things?”

Xukun had a point, so Yanjun shut up about it all for a little bit. It was actually pretty nice to not think about Zhangjing and getting angry for thirty minutes or so.

“So about Ziyi,” Xukun began after they wrapped up their conversation about how one of the frats got in trouble for hazing, “I want to make a case for him, since he doesn’t think he deserves to make one for himself.”

“How heroic of him,” Yanjun drawled, and Xukun just rolled his eyes.

“You’re such a dick. Anyways, if I explain anything about him you’ll just see this raging asshole that you think Ziyi is. So here’s an example.”

Xukun leaned back in his seat, sipping from his cup before speaking. “Imagine a couple about to break up. The boy cheated on the girl. Their mutual friend knows about this. But knowing that the relationship is about to fall apart, the friend decides to not tell the girl. They break up and the girl never knows, never has to know, and therefore never hurts over it.”

Yanjun opens his mouth to respond and Xukun holds up a hand. “Yeah. I know. Some people would say that’s the right decision. Other people would say that the girl deserves to know the truth no matter what. But in the end, the friend decided that the girl shouldn’t have to hurt more than she already does.”

Xukun sipped more from his cup. “That’s what Ziyi decided. He chose the path that would lead to less hurt for Zhangjing overall.”

“Yeah, but your story doesn’t have an asshole like me who thinks honesty is the best policy,” Yanjun said, “Also, the couple isn’t a good comparison because Zhangjing and Ziyi are still _friends_. So one, trust is necessary between them, as opposed to a couple who broke up, and two, Ziyi—”

“Yeah, okay, I get it,” Xukun sighed, “I’m just saying. This shit isn’t black and white, okay? Maybe lying to Zhangjing was easier than telling the truth. But you know that he made that choice _because_ he thought it was the best option.”

“But now Zhangjing won’t trust Ziyi the same, and their friendship won’t ever be the same.”

“Zhangjing took that risk when he decided to confess to Ziyi,” Xukun responded simply.

Yanjun didn’t have a retort for that.

“You’re pretty good at relationship advice for someone who drinks apple juice,” Yanjun says instead. Xukun raises his eyebrows, swishing the juice around in his cup before finishing it off.

“Well, I have a lot of experience. I’ve been broken hearted and breaking hearts since the ripe, bisexual age of fourteen.”

He winked at Yanjun, and he only pretended to gag a little bit.

Yanjun wasn’t sure if he walked away from that lunch with any changed opinions at all. As far as he was concerned, Wang Ziyi was still a dick. But he _was_ pretty biased against the guy.

 

* * *

 

On the night of day four, Zhangjing knocked on Yanjun’s door.

“Can we talk now?” were the words that came out of Zhangjing’s mouth when Yanjun opened the door.

“Uh—Zhang—I—”

Zhangjing pushed past him and sat on his bed, and Yanjun’s heart tugged painfully at the familiarity of it all.

“I want to speak,” Zhangjing said firmly. Instead of sitting beside him, Yanjun instead sat at his desk chair, looking at the petite man and nodding.

“Okay. I’m sorry I yelled at you. The truth is, I did have feelings for you at the beginning of the year.”

Zhangjing’s lips keep moving, and he’s probably still speaking too, but all Yanjun hears is the rushing of his blood through his head because he couldn’t even process his emotions very well right now, because all he could really think of is the idea of Zhangjing liking him, and it’s a very confusing feeling, because he’s not sure whether to feel worse or better—

“Yanjun, are you even listening?” Zhangjing asks, and Yanjun snaps his head up to look at him.

“Yeah. You said that you had feelings for me and didn’t act on them because you were afraid of compromising our budding friendship that you knew would go a long way if nothing got in the way, and you decided to not get in the way early on,” Yanjun repeated, completely unaware he had retained all of that.

Zhangjing pursed his lips, before exhaling, his little shoulders slouching. “Yeah. I guess that’s all I really had to say. I just… you asked me that so suddenly and I didn’t know how to respond.”

“Did you know that I liked you?” Yanjun asks, deciding to not delve into the absolute fuckery that was his mind right then.

Zhangjing let out a weak laugh. “Did I know? Yanjun, I never would have believed in a million years that you liked me. I wasn’t _looking_ for signs of you liking me.”

Yanjun fucking hates how that sounds. “I feel like you don’t see the same person in the mirror that I see in front of me, Zhangjing,” Yanjun says slowly.

This time, Zhangjing does actually laugh. A mean one, a short, stout laugh. Almost a cackle. “Oh please, Lin Yanjun. I’m not expecting you to know what it’s like to feel insecure about looks.”

“… How about the heart shattering, soul crushing, life destroying feeling of the person you’re in love with crying over another boy who is nothing like you? How’s that for insecure?” Yanjun asks back, and it only comes off as extremely passive aggressive. Zhangjing snorts again.

“Are you snapping because you’re mad at me or yourself?” Zhangjing asks, “Because I’m sorry I’m not the confident ass you are, but any signs of affection you gave me, I would immediately pass them off as me imagining things. Okay?”

“You rejected the _idea_ of me before even trying?!” Yanjun asked, standing up from his chair now, “Are you serious? I might not have realized it then but I’m pretty sure I fell for you the second I looked at you!”

“If you didn’t realize it, how was I supposed to?” Zhangjing retorted.

“I don’t know, it’s not my fault that you only think people like you if they’re fucking _nice_ to you.”

Yanjun knew then that he fucked up. He absolutely, one hundred percent should not have brought up Ziyi but he did and there was this broken look on Zhangjing’s face.

“Yeah. That’s probably true,” Zhangjing said shakily. “Do you want to know why I thought I had a chance with Ziyi but never with you, Yanjun?”

Zhangjing’s voice was getting tighter, but he was getting louder, like words were getting harder to force out and the only way to make himself speak anymore was to yell. Yanjun didn’t react, or respond, because all he could think to do was listen.

“Why do you think I fell for the nicest person on campus?” Zhangjing asked, eyes watering, “Why do you think I fell so hard for someone who is the _exact opposite of you_?”

“Z-Zhangjing,” Yanjun said, blinking hard, because _fuck_ that just pierced right through him. “Zhangjing.”

He kept going. “Because _he’s_ nice enough to give people a chance, and I figured that he’d be nice enough to be able to ignore everything I hate about myself.”

“When did you write me off as an asshole? That’s not fair, that isn’t fair Zhangjing,” Yanjun responded, voice just a little broken.

“God, Yanjun! It’s not _about_ you!” Zhangjing exploded, “Do you want me to force my feelings to come back?! Why aren’t I good enough like this as your friend?”

Tears were tracking down his cheeks so heavily now, his voice thick as he spoke. Yanjun sat there, taking it all, numb.

“Don’t you get it, Yanjun? From the beginning, we were impossible. You were you, and I’m _me_ . We were such good friends and I couldn’t ruin that! _Look_ at us! We’re fighting, Yanjun. We were such good friends and now we’re screaming at each other--”

“We aren’t impossible! God dammit, Zhangjing, why is it so hard for you to believe that I’m _in love with you_?”

Maybe that line really sold him. Maybe it did magic, maybe it turned a switch in Zhangjing’s head and made fireworks go off in his mind.

It must have done something along the lines of that, because Zhangjing reached forward, grabbed the front of Yanjun’s shirt, yanked him down, and kissed him.

 _Kissed_ him.

Zhangjing just spent the last five minutes trying to convince Yanjun that he wasn’t good enough for him. And now he’s kissing him.

It was like the person he was really trying to convince was himself.

And Yanjun, in pure shitbag fashion, kissed him back, hands grabbing his hips and pulling him against him.

Zhangjing pushes Yanjun’s lips open with his, and Yanjun feels like Zhangjing is wishing that he was Ziyi instead. He’s fine with that.

Because he never really knew that kissing someone could _feel_ like something, because every other time it was just kissing. But with Zhangjing, he actually felt lightheaded, and woozy, and over the moon, like it was described in every movie and every book and every love song.

Nothing in his mind was making sense because it was all he ever really dreamed about, his hands grabbing his hips and Zhangjing’s hands wrapped around his neck, in his hair, desperately trying to reach for something that wasn’t there. He could feel it in the kiss, too. Desperation, an attempt to just feel better.

Yanjun’s fine with that.

Zhangjing stumbles backwards for some reason and Yanjun goes with him, pressing him against the wall besides the door. With this he immediately deepens the kiss, pressing harder, holding him tighter, and for a second their teeth accidentally clash from the intensity.

Until Yanjun realizes something.

He stripped Zhangjing of a best friend.

In his most vulnerable time, when he was hurting most, he just went ahead and unloaded all of his heartache onto Zhangjing too. And now Zhangjing has no one to go to.

The guilt alone is what pulls Yanjun away, but it’s all of the self-control in the fucking world that keeps him back when Zhangjing moves with him, clinging to him, eyes still closed.

“No,” Yanjun whispers, and Zhangjing lurches forward again, grazing Yanjun’s lips with his own. Yanjun moves him back further, shaking his head.

“N-No, Zhangjing, you can’t. I can’t. We can’t do this, not like this.”

“What do you mean?” Zhangjing said, whining quietly, and it almost weakened Yanjun, almost, “Please, Yanjun, I need this, I _need_ this, _please_.”

“N-No,” Yanjun forced out. He feels like if Zhangjing had only said _I need you_ instead then he would have caved. “Not like this.”

Zhangjing keeps whining, pleading, begging with little words and Yanjun just keeps saying now. Zhangjing is balling his fists into Yanjun’s shirt and he should have taken it as a sign because Zhangjing just snaps.

“ _Fuck_ , Yanjun, I though you _wanted_ this!” Zhangjing cried out, looking up at him, “Fuck, why the fuck doesn’t anyone _want me_?”

Yanjun tries to speak, tries to explain his reasoning and tries to explain that he was the worst person on campus for doing this to him when he was vulnerable, but Zhangjing doesn’t wait to hear another word.

He shoves Yanjun off, turns, yanks the door open and leaves.

Yanjun just stands there, unable to react. Unsure on how he _should_ react.

He just goes to bed.

He doesn’t sleep.


	6. Pretending

He didn’t sleep.

Zhangjing doesn’t speak at all to Yanjun that next day. Not in person.

Yanjun doesn’t push. He knows he needs space.

Zhangjing texts him. Yanjun texts back. He texts back a lot. Explaining why he pulled away.

Zhangjing doesn’t respond.

And Yanjun’s days go by in fragments.

All he can think about is Zhangjing.

Without him, nothing connects, and nothing makes sense.

 

* * *

 

Only two days pass before Yanjun just gives in.

He was honestly shocked he could even make it that far. Yanjun considered texting Zhangjing, calling him, but it just felt awkward. It didn’t feel right.

Yanjun was sat there in the dining hall for nearly an hour after eating dinner, just trying to think about what he could say, because nothing felt right.

Until his eyes landed on the jar of sprinkles next to the ice cream machine rom across the dining hall. The real answer was that he didn’t have to say anything at all.

Seventeen minutes later, Yanjun is arranging his array of stolen items from the dining hall: a cup of sprinkles, a juice box, and five vanilla pudding cups in front of Zhangjing’s door.

He has a plan. Knock on his door, book it to the end of the hallway and duck behind the potted plant at the corner. It’s a flawless plan, that only relied on Zhangjing not being anywhere near the front door. He’s not sure why he’s so bent on leaving the items for him when he could just easily give them to him, but he’s really aiming for the whole _actions speak louder than words_ thing.

Yanjun knocked on the door. And he scrambled out of there and around the corner, situating himself behind the plant.

Zhangjing doesn’t open the door for a solid minute. Cautiously, Yanjun peeks around the corner. And of course, just as he stood up a bit straighter, the door finally opened.

Yanjun damn near fell over himself trying to duck behind the stupid plotted plant, gripping the sides of the pot and trying to see through the mass of leaves.

Zhangjing sticks his head out suspiciously, immediately glancing down at the ground at the treats. Slowly, certainly, there’s this big, shining smile on Zhangjing’s face, a smile he hasn’t seen in a long time, and Yanjun thinks that that’s all that matters.

If Yanjun weren’t so pleased with himself, he probably would have noticed the very obvious glance Zhangjing threw at the potted plant.

 

* * *

 

 

> Text from Zhangjing | 21:01
> 
> i saw you from behind the plant last night
> 
> stupid
> 
> but thank you
> 
>  
> 
> Text to Zhangjing | 21:04
> 
> Haha. Damn.
> 
> I’m glad you appreciated it.
> 
> How have you been?
> 
>  
> 
> Text from Zhangjing | 21:34
> 
> i miss you
> 
>  
> 
> Text to Zhangjing | 21:34
> 
> Wanna meet at the dining hall?

 

* * *

 

Dinner was amazing.

Well, the food was kind of awful. The salad bar was straight out of any dressing, both of the drink dispensers were broken, and the ice cream machine still hadn’t been repaired. But dinner was amazing.

It was amazing because when Zhangjing and Yanjun sat down at their booth, they just ate and talked about each other’s day. They talked about normal things, like how Yanjun had a quiz the next day, and how Zhangjing was planning to go out that Friday.

It was the most normal conversation they had had in a long, long time. There was an unspoken agreement that this dinner is just going to be _normal_.

Yanjun knew they both missed it. So they kept doing it.

All week.

Every time Yanjun did want to bring it up, Zhangjing could tell. Whenever the silence that had settled in between conversations grew too heavy, Yanjun would look at Zhangjing and he would just look away.

Zhangjing knew Yanjun too well, and for once it was really annoying.

But Yanjun missed Zhangjing, and if pretending like things were okay got him daily dinners with Zhangjing, then he would gladly shut up for a little bit. He’s used to pretending at this point, anyways.

They had dinner together on Friday night too, right before Zhangjing headed out. It was just  _so nice,_ having dinner together like they used to always do, with everything being the same as before.

But every time he looked up from his food and at Zhangjing, all he could see was him with his eyes closed, lips plump and bright pink, the fabric of Yanjun’s shirt balled in his hands as he clutched at his chest.

Yanjun wonders what Zhangjing sees. And he wonders when they’ll stop pretending.


	7. Going Back

 

 

> Text to Zhangjing | 11:04
> 
> Hey, be safe tonight, okay?
> 
>  
> 
> Text from Zhangjing | 11:06
> 
> i only just got here lol
> 
> will do

 

* * *

 

 

 

> Text from Zhangjing | 1:26
> 
> hI yanjuna re yuu awakde still
> 
> im fucKed up
> 
>  
> 
> Text to Zhangjing | 1:26
> 
> Are you okay? Where are you?
> 
>  
> 
> Text from Zhangjing | 1:31
> 
> i mfukced uP
> 
> idkw here i M
> 
> summ guy keepz hiTingOn me
> 
>  
> 
> _Calling Zhangjing | 1:31_

 

* * *

 

“Just stay on the phone with me. Are you alone in the bathroom?”

Through the receiver, Zhangjing mumbles nonsense in response.

Yanjun ran a hand through his hair, running down the street and looking desperately at the Greek symbols on every house.

Everything had been going fine.

 _I mean, we haven’t talked about what happened for more than a week and are basically pretending that things are the way they were two months ago, but yea, everything was going fine_ , Yanjun thinks, cursing when he arrives to the last house on the block.

“Zhangjing, did I miss it? You said it has a Beta symbol in its name?” Yanjun asks, catching his breath a little.

“… Beta. B. It says B,” Zhangjing slurred through the phone, “The house… white, white and big, _ohmygosh_ just like the guy who was hitting on me.”

“Great,” Yanjun muttered to himself, sighing and looking up the street again. And then he looked right across the street.

_Oh._

There it was, a large stone structure with Greek columns and everything. He felt like the building was strongly overcompensating for what was inside.

“Oh shit, I found it. Just stay there, okay?” Yanjun breathes, sprinting across the street, through the lawn and up the stairs. As he ran, the couple of frat brothers guarding the entrance looked at Yanjun with crinkled noses and Yanjun just had no patience for this shit.

“My friend is inside,” Yanjun said to them breathlessly, still pressing the phone up to his ear, “He’s drunk. I just need to get in.”

“Yeah, sorry,” the one of the left said, his arms crossed, “I mean, if you know a brother, then you can come in, or if someone inside—”

“I don’t care about your party. My friend is fucked up in there and completely alone,” Yanjun said flatly, “So can you stop sucking your own dick and let me the fuck in so I can get the fuck out?”

With his shitty temper, he was shocked that they let him in, but it was whatever. He pushes past crowds of people, racing up and down dim, rickety hallways looking for this one bathroom.

Finally he finds it. He shoves past the couple sucking each other’s mouths right outside and bursts in. The bathroom was hardly any larger than a closet, with only two narrow stalls.

Zhangjing was slumped over in the first one, dazed and lost and unable to even look up at Yanjun.

Yanjun breathes out in relief, pushing his phone into his pocket, kneeling down on the floor and all he wants to do is wrap his arms around him but that’s not what he needs right now.

“Yanjun…” Zhangjing murmured. Yanjun just squeezes his shoulder, bringing his hands underneath his arms and lifting him up.

“C’mon. We can talk later. Let’s go,” Yanjun says, moving Zhangjing’s arm around his shoulder and helping him up.

“Yanjun, I love you. Like so much right now, you don’t even know,” Zhangjing mutters. Yanjun smiles down at him, laughing a little as he guided him out of the door.

“Yeah,” is all he says in response. “Let’s get you back.”

 

* * *

 

Zhangjing had asked to spend the night in Yanjun’s room.

Which was amazing, because waking up next to Zhangjing the next morning was about the greatest feeling in the world. Up until the moment he realized that Zhangjing was crying against his chest.

“Zhang… Zhangjing, what’s wrong?” Yanjun asked, voice thick and groggy as he slowly sat up. Zhangjing shook his head, sitting up as well, yet still leaning against Yanjun.

“I-I’m so sorry Yanjun…” Zhangjing said thickly, eyes red, “I was so drunk and I just, I’m so sorry you had to get me. I-I… I saw, Ziyi and Xukun there together, and I just, I needed to get drunk, so I drank way too much and fuck, I almost hooked up with someone, god there’s so much wrong with me—”

Zhangjing was interrupted by his own hiccup, which despite the situation, Yanjun couldn’t help but find pretty damn cute. Yanjun pushed Zhangjing’s hair back out of his eyes, biting down on his lower lip.

“Don’t apologize. I’ll always go get you if you need me, okay? Stay here. Let me get you some water and aspirin,” Yanjun says quietly, getting out of bed.

But just as his feet touch the floor, Zhangjing’s arms wrap around his waist from behind, and _fuck_ Yanjun just freezes, and there’s no way he’s moving another centimeter away.

“Wait,” Zhangjing mutters against him, wrapping his arms tighter around him, “Don’t move…”

Yanjun didn’t move.

“It’s easier to talk to you this way, so just don’t move…”

“I promise you, there’s no way in hell I’m moving,” Yanjun said lowly.

Zhangjing tightened his arms around Yanjun again, sighing softly before speaking. “I’m sorry for kissing you. I just wanted to feel something. I shouldn’t have done that to you when I knew how you felt about me.”

“I reciprocated,” Yanjun responded, “If anything what I did was worse. I just gave in.”

“I’m still sorry. I’m just confused, because I did like you at some point, and yeah I used Ziyi’s crush to get over you and it worked too well but feelings don’t just disappear but… that’s not important…”

In Yanjun’s mind, it was very important, everything that just came out of Zhangjing’s mouth was extremely important but he doesn’t say a word. He just nods.

“I miss you, Yanjun. A lot.”

Zhangjing keeps tightening his grip around Yanjun, and the taller places his hand on Zhangjing’s on his waist, sighing.

“I miss you too,” he says quietly.

“Can we just go back to being friends?” Zhangjing pleaded quietly, “Please…? I know it’s a lot to put aside, but…”

Yanjun nods. He assumes Zhangjing sees it, because he stops talking.

They remain like that for a few more seconds before Yanjun finally turns around, pulling Zhangjing against his chest and into a hug.

“I missed you too,” he repeats lowly, as the brunet buries his face into his chest.

 

* * *

 

Zhangjing did get better.

Sure, only two weeks had passed, but he really _was_ getting better. Or maybe it was just that _they_ were getting better. Finally, after everything, they fell back into the same familiar pattern of being best friends. Yanjun’s feelings were still there, yes, but Yanjun was perfectly happy with putting that on hold. Zhangjing came first.

For the first time in a long time, Yanjun could say that he felt happy.

 

* * *

 

One day later, Zhangjing is crying in Yanjun’s room again.

Ziyi had texted Zhangjing about meeting up for dinner to just talk. The proposal in itself had evidently triggered an avalanche of bottled-up emotions, sending Zhangjing into a complete downward spiral of tears the second he saw who was even texting him.

Yanjun was just glad that class was over at that point, and they went straight to Yanjun’s dorm, as it was closer.

“I know I have to say yes,” Zhangjing sniffles, sighing against Yanjun. He was curled up on Yanjun’s bed beside him, Yanjun’s arm encasing his shoulders, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze every once in a while.

“It’d be good for closure,” Yanjun agreed, “But just… be careful. You’re already hurt enough. And also…”

Yanjun paused, trying to frame this correctly. “Next time, don’t pretend everything’s okay. If you have to cry to me, just do it.”

“I can’t always come to you with my problems, Yanjun, as much as I know you want to be that kind of person for me,” Zhangjing says instead, “I’m going to fix myself. Okay? I promise. I’ll do it. But times like these, when I’m at some of my lows…”

Zhangjing peeked up at Yanjun, before tucking his head back down again.

“It’s nice. It means a lot,” Zhangjing says quietly, sniffling. Yanjun just smiles, even though Zhangjing can’t see.

“I’m glad I’m helping, at least,” Yanjun says softly, “You’ve been doing so well recently. I’m really happy about that.”

“How have I been doing even a little okay?” Zhangjing asked, wiping at his nose with his sleeve, “I’m crying on and off all the time, even if you don’t know… A lot of the time I have no idea what to do.”

“Just do exactly what you’ve been doing the past sixteen days,” Yanjun said, “Taking everything one day at a time. Find something the next day to look forward to. Today’s what, Monday?”

Yanjun squeezed his grip on Zhangjing’s shoulder. “They change ice cream flavors in the dining hall on Tuesdays. That’s something to look forward to, right?”

Zhangjing’s chest began to shake slightly, and in a panic, Yanjun pulled back a bit to see the damage, to apologize for making a joke about ice cream while he was crying. But Zhangjing wasn’t crying, no—he was laughing, laughing so hard that it was silent.

“You’re so stupid,” Zhangjing cackled, moving closer against Yanjun. Feelings of pride and joy swell in his chest, and Yanjun just chuckles.

“Hey, I’m right though!” Yanjun smiles. He glances down at the junior snuggled up to his chest. And in that moment, he finally realizes that the one thing that was most important to Yanjun was this. Just Zhangjing, smiling, and being safe. Zhangjing’s happiness mattered most, whether Yanjun was involved or not.

But as of now, Yanjun was. And he couldn’t believe how insanely lucky he was.

“See?” Yanjun hums.

He really couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

“You just have to wait for Tuesday.”


	8. Epilogue

“Lin Yanjun, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Open it. It’s super important.”

“It’s our  _ one-month _ anniversary. You bought me a whole-ass cake, so whatever is in this envelope, it’s already extra enough.”

“I said it’s  _ super _ important, Zhangjing. Do you think English majors use adjectives haphazardly?”

For their one-month anniversary, Yanjun made sure to take Zhangjing to his absolute favorite restaurant, a cute little Italian place right in the town square. It was summer now, so he booked the date on a Tuesday, hoping that the place wouldn’t be crowded. He knew that if he presented Zhangjing with an entire cake in a very public setting, he’d get embarrassed. 

And besides, he’d rather he read his card with less people around. Even Yanjun could admit that it was painfully cheesy. 

“Just open your card. Come on,” Yanjun repeated.

“I know, I know,” Zhangjing says, carefully opening the envelope and taking out the blue card. He starts to read.

“‘You Zhangjing,’” Zhangjing begins, his lips curled upwards into a little smile, “‘Everything you do makes me melt. And you’re beautiful’—Yanjun, this is the sappiest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen you spill an entire bottle of maple syrup onto one waffle.”

“You love it, and don’t even try to lie. Keep going.”

Zhangjing rolls his eyes, but he definitely doesn’t contradict Yanjun in any way. He keeps reading. “‘You’re beautiful, because being a kind person comes to easy to you. I didn’t ever know what love was until I saw you radiating with it.’”

Zhangjing pauses again, his gaze softening as he looks up at Yanjun. “… That’s so sweet. You still think that even though I give you shit literally every day?”

“You’re funny, aren’t you?” Yanjun drawls, trying very hard to keep the grin off his face. 

“How long have you been holding on to saying this, anyways? There’s no way this is a first draft,” Zhangjing accuses suspiciously. 

“How about you just read?”

“Fine.” Zhangjing takes a short pause before finally finishing the card. “‘You Zhangjing, you are everything new. Until you accept me like this, I have nowhere to go. Until then… I’ll be lost in you.’”

Zhangjing’s eyes linger on the page for a few seconds, before suddenly, he gets up from his seat and moves into Yanjun’s side of the booth, wrapping his arms around him, tight. Yanjun of course, encases him in his arms.

“I love you so much,” Zhangjing mutters against him. He only pauses for a second before adding, “Stupid.”

Yanjun just chuckles. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to say all of that.”

He leans down, pressing a small kiss to the top of Zhangjing’s head. 

“I love you too.”


End file.
